


Destiny Is A Gift- Or Is It?

by Wrenvibes



Category: Trollhunters - Daniel Kraus & Guillermo del Toro
Genre: Crying, Gen, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Internalized Transphobia, Jim Is Stupid, Trans Jim Lake Jr., Unauthorized Handling Of Swords, Underage Drinking, implied trans character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-07
Updated: 2019-04-07
Packaged: 2020-01-06 02:22:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18378986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wrenvibes/pseuds/Wrenvibes
Summary: Being the Trollhunter is.... a lot. Jim learns to cope, however he can.





	Destiny Is A Gift- Or Is It?

**Author's Note:**

> In which Jim learns that even he is not immune to bad decisions.

Jim really had to get healthier coping mechanisms. He knew he had it bad, but it wasn’t until fall break that the urges  _really_ started to kick in. It started with him throwing himself into his schoolwork, then hanging out with Toby almost constantly, which was fine. But now that he was out of school, it was a lot harder. He had already stress-baked just about everything one could stress-bake, and even listening to music could only help so much. He was starting to get desperate.

It wasn’t like he’d been the Trollhunter for very long- it had only been a month since he’d been chosen, really, but every time he spoke the command phrase he felt the pressure on his shoulders more and more. 

Being a teenager usually had him stress eating as opposed to stress not-eating- but as of recently, his appetite had majorly dwindled from the sheer stress of never knowing when he’d have to leave class, or run into some battle that could potentially get him killed. 

The nightmares hadn’t helped, either. He had woken up screaming with no memory of where he was more times than he could count. His mother had chalked it up to stress, which he was grateful for, and he would usually just call Toby afterward to let off steam and calm himself down. 

Now, though, Jim’s tension had reached a boiling point. He hadn’t slept in two days, he was falling behind on his battle training, and he had been irritable to the degree that he nearly drew his sword on a classmate when she had deadnamed him. 

Tonight was the outlet he needed, he thought. A well-regarded senior from the Dungeons and Dragons club was, surprisingly enough, hosting a massive party at their house, and they had invited Jim and Toby. He’d heard rumors there was going to be shit-quality booze and had originally been nervous, but now he was ecstatic. Toby wasn’t coming- he had some big test to study for, and had seemed nervous about the alcohol prospect- but he had set out the offer for Jim to call him if anything happened. 

Jim stepped through the crowd, eyeing the droves of people in either gothy attire, those ugly basketball shorts commonly found on jocks, or a mixture of both. He hadn’t really known what to wear, so he had gone with a subtly printed button-down with black jeans for a more casual element to the outfit. If Toby had been there, he would’ve cracked a joke about the shirt. 

But Toby wasn’t there, so Jim made a beeline for the table of drinks and prayed to all the gods that existed that he wouldn’t see Claire. This didn’t really seem like her scene anyway, but knowing his luck...

He sighed and stood against the wall, taking a long drink of the dark liquid in the solo cup and nearly choking. Wow, that was uniquely terrible. It tasted like a combination of cough syrup, cheap beer, and... mushrooms? He didn’t enjoy it that much, but it was free booze, so he didn’t complain.

Jim thought for a minute, trying to remember where he’d told his mom what he would be doing while she was gone. Studying with Toby, he thought. Yeah. To be honest, he was probably going to end up calling Toby anyway, so it wasn’t really a lie. He thought about calling him now, and asking him to come pick him up. Then he thought about calling his mom. She would understand, and she probably wouldn’t be mad as long as he wasn’t-

Jim started at the red solo cup in his hand. _Oops_ , he thought. She would definitely know he’d been drinking, might even make him do a breathalyzer test- perks of having a doctor for a mom, he thought bitterly. At least maybe he’d stay alive longer as the Trollhunter. 

Jim finished his first drink and went back for another. He stayed off of the dancefloor, simply letting the music pulse through him and lull him into a pleasantly buzzed daze. Soon, however, he started to lose track of the drinks he’d had, and he had a bit of trouble standing up straight.

As Jim walked through a darker hallway toward the foyer, headed outside to collect himself, a vaguely familiar boy from Strickler’s class tapped him on the shoulder.

“Hey, man, are you feeling okay? Need a ride home?” Jim gave him a smile, too wide and a little shaky. He laughed softly. 

“I’m good, I’m- don’t worry about me, man, I’m just fantastic.” Jim’s speech was a little slurred, and the kid nodded.

”Alright, uh. Good luck with that.” Jim walked out the door, slowly, walking into the yard. Fairy lights were strung up, and they casted a soft glow across the place, but the way they flickered made Jim a little dizzy. 

Another familiar face passed him- some asshole from his Freshman P.E class, with some douchebag jock name like Brian or something- oh yes, Jim remembered him well despite being very, very drunk. Downing his drink, he strode up to him, arms crossed.

“Do we have a problem here?” He asked, a cool tone of dismissal in his voice. He really obviously didn’t care at all, which... Something about that made Jim’s blood fucking boil. Did he know who he was talking to? Did he know what he could do?

“Yeah, you’re damn right we have a probl-Problem here..” Jim’s words got tangled on his tongue as he stepped forward. “If I ever hear you talk to somebody like you talked to me in fuckin.. uh, Gym class, yeah- If I ever hear you talk to somebody like that again, we’re gonna have a real big issue, okay?”

The boy smirked. The expression had an air of superiority to it, and he crosses his arms. 

“What’s the issue, Jimmy, can’t hold your liquor like the rest of us? If you were a real man, maybe you’d be able to stand up straight right now.” He pushed Jim back casually, enough for the off-kilter rush in his head to intensify and send him reeling, falling backward onto his ass. A few of his similarly jock-ish friends snickered. “What a weirdo, I swear to god-“

Jim’s ears were ringing as he got to his feet, gritting his teeth as he felt the amulet grow hot against his collarbone. He had no patience left for people like this imbecile, and he absolutely planned to show him what a real man looked like.

Before he could stop himself, Jim had rushed forward, a venomous expression on his face. 

“By the order of Merlin, daylight is mine to command!” He shouted, and the familiar weight of the armor of the Trollhunter clicked into place, his massive sword materializing into his hands out of thin air. He hoisted the sword up, unsteady and shaky- Everything felt heavier than usual, weighing him down instead of making him feel lighter. 

“Yo, what the fuck? Dude, I didn’t mean to piss you off, no big deal, right? No hard feelings?” He was rambling now, and he eyed Jim and his sword with near terror in his eyes. Jim dropped the weapon, and it faded from sight along with the armor. 

As Jim looked around, he found that all eyes were on him. Complete silence had fallen across the yard. 

“Party trick- just a party trick, people?” He tried to explain, and the crowd started to chatter again, everything beginning to calm down. Jim took a drink from an outside table, and winced at the taste. He was starting to feel not so great- there was something about the booze, the crowds, and the cool temperatures that was really getting to him. The chill cut into his skin, making him shiver. He felt a little sick, and he wished he’d brought a jacket. He was supposed to be having a good time, wasn’t he? 

The chatter of the crowd rose to a roar in his ears. A few strange glances from a few people were all it took for him to feel worse. Freak, liar, faker, his brain told him. Freak. Freak. Freak. Weirdo. Not a real man. Not a real man. His breaths came in quick, shaky gasps, and suddenly the crowds of people were oppressively close. He felt almost as if there were ants crawling unseen under his skin, inside his bones- He was the Trollhunter, and he couldn’t even control his reputation. He was the fucking TROLLHUNTER- god knows if he would even live long enough to legally drink.

”Hey, uh, Jim? I heard from a few people out here that you weren’t looking so hot, figured I’d check on you..”

Jim froze at the sound of Claire’s voice, and it felt like his heart could stop at any second. He turned to face her, looking like a deer in headlights. “Jeez, you look pale, do you need a ride home?”

Jim shook his head, trying to find the words. She looked really pretty, he thought- her dark hair nearly in her eyes, a military jacket draped over her shoulders in a way that was effortless and elegant. He felt his cheeks flush, and knew it wasn’t just the booze.

“Fine- I’m- I didn’t do anything, I dunno what they’re talkin’ about, I- m’gonna call Toby,” He stuttered, waving as he darted away from the conversation and out of the gate, breathing heavily and glad he had at least escaped without doing some teen movie bullshit like puking in front of her. Now that he was alone... he was gonna call Toby, because he didn’t feel good, and he wanted his mom, and- and- all of a sudden, Jim was crying before he realized he was going to, hot tears tracking down his cheeks.

With trembling hands, Jim dialed Toby’s number, holding the phone with a death grip and trying to take slow breaths. He picked up quickly, to Jim’s relief. 

“Hey, Jimbo. How’s the party?” Thank god for Toby, he thought, predictable, trusting Toby- hell, he probably didn’t go because he knew this would happen. 

“I’m- I need you t-to come and get me, I- blond kid from last year Gym was there and he was- I was really mad and I said the code word and I was- I didn’t mean it, Toby-I-“ Jim’s voice was high and cracked as the words rushed out, tears spilling down his cheeks to match. 

“Jim, hey- Take it slow, what happened? Gym blondie was there, I got that- god, I hated that dude. You said- oh man, tell me you didn’t...” The tone in his voice was close enough to disappointment that Jim just cried harder. “It’s okay. It’s okay, don’t worry, as long as nobody’s hurt you’re fine, no harm done...” He soothed.

”I- I had a lot, like a lot a lot, and Claire came up to me, course she did, asked if I was okay and I didn’t know what to do,” Jim bemoaned, still sniffling. “He- The guy said I wasn’t enough of a dude ‘cause I was drunk-“ His words came in a cracked rush, and he was near sobbing. 

“Hey, it’s okay. It’s okay. Just- I’ll come get you, alright? I’ll be there in 5.” Toby reassured, and Jim nodded.

”Okay, thank you, god, thank you.” He rubbed his eyes frantically.

”Of course, bud. I’ll see you soon.” Jim heard the click of him hanging up, and he realized he was alone. His heartbeat was thudding so loud in his ears it was deafening, and the tears wouldn’t stop coming now. At this point, Jim hardly knew why he was crying, so he took another sip of his drink and grimaced. God, it was awful, and he wanted to be anywhere but here. He slammed his hands onto the pavement in a rush of emotion and hardly winced at the pain of concrete against his palms, so he did it again- it did hurt that time, and he bit his tongue hard enough to draw blood. Clutching his hands to his chest, he bit back a harsh sob. 

“Jim?” Toby’s soft voice rang out through the relative quiet. Jim didn’t bother to look up. “Are you feelin’ okay?” He heard the soft sound of footsteps approaching him and Jim looked up at him. “Jesus, how long have you been crying? It’s cold out here, we need to get you home..” 

“I think- I don’t know, it hasn’t been that long....” At Jim’s best estimate, Toby had gotten there within about four or five minutes, like he’d promised, but Jim had been outside for maybe 6 or 10 before he’d called. Before Toby could speak, Jim hugged him, pressing his face into his shoulder. Toby hummed softly, patting his  arm gently. They sat like that for a while as Jim cried, slowly starting to relax and breathing a bit more measured. After a few minutes, Toby spoke.

“Okay, come on, bud.” Toby wrapped a tentative arm around Jim’s shoulder and helped him to his feet. 

“Oh, man.” Jim swayed, the ground seeking to tilt beneath his feet, and Toby steadied him with a gentle hand against his back. 

“Jeez, how much have you had? I didn’t realize you could even get drunk. Thought your moral compass would just turn it to water or something.” Toby joked, and Jim groaned. 

“Uhh.... I dunno what it was, but I had... hm..” Jim pondered for a second. “Three, four. You would not believe how AWFUL this stuff is, Tobes, it tastes soooo bad..” He mumbled, tasting the bitter, sickly taste of booze in his mouth and grimacing. God, he was going to regret this later. 

“Okay, knowing the people at this party, I’d say you’re, like, safe, but you’re definitely gonna regret this, man. You’re SUPER lucky your mom has the graveyard shift tonight, so she’s not home. I called to check, just in case, but she usually works the same shifts these days, so I wasn’t really risking a lot.” Toby explained as he led Jim to the car, opening the door to the passenger side. Jim plopped into the seat, curling up with his head on the window. 

“Tobyyyy,” Jim murmured. 

“Yeah, Jimbo?” He was driving now, and the feeling of moving was not exactly great. Jim closed his eyes, a little disoriented. 

“I’m not feeling that great, dude.” He mumbled. He was mostly tired, but he didn’t really trust himself to NOT feel sick; he already kind of did. He also felt kind of like he’d been hit by a bus, and his hands really hurt. He was still crying, but he hardly noticed at this point. Toby squeezed his hand gently. 

“I know you’re feeling like, I dunno, a total garbage snowman right now, but hang in there, ok? You can get some water when you get home, go to bed...” He said, and continued to drive. Jim contemplated this in silence, glad that he’d left his drink on the curb- he didn’t need or want to be any more drunk than he was right now. 

Toby was pulling into the driveway now, and when he got out of the car Jim stayed where he was. He sat up and opened the door, but didn’t move to get out. Toby sighed and took his arm, helping him out of the car and wincing when he nearly fell flat on his face. Jim winced as his palm hit the car door. “You okay, buddy?” He lightly took Jim’s wrist and looked at his palms. “Oh man, okay. Let’s- come on.” 

Without questioning him, Jim followed Toby inside, shivering as the warmth hit his skin and realizing how cold it had been outside. Toby sat him down at the kitchen counter and rummaged through the cabinets, finding the first-aid kit and pulling it down. 

“I’m fine, I’m fine...” Jim mumbled. 

“Dude, your hands are like, fucked. At least let me put a bandaid on there or something,” 

“Fine.” Jim wasn’t about to argue with Toby, so he extended his palms out. Okay, maybe they.. weren’t great. Flecks of gravel were embedded in his palms, which Toby quickly wiped away with the harsh sting of antiseptic. He looked at the harsh red gashes on his palms, the wet crimson- oh, man, suddenly he really didn’t feel that great-

“Jim, woah,” Toby steadied his shoulders as he realized he’d started to sway a little. “Take it easy, man, you’re really, like- a basement-dweller level of pale right now. Maybe try not looking while I get you fixed up, okay? I know you get a little freaked at the sight of blood, but it’s been a while since you looked like you were gonna pass out because of it.” He rubbed his shoulder gently as a way of soothing him, and Jim sighed, nodding. The feeling had mostly subsided, now that he had his eyes closed. 

“Yeah..” He mumbled. 

“So, before all that stuff went down, it seemed like you had a good time, right? Got to drink at least, stop working yourself to death,” Toby said hopefully, and Jim could feel the soft press of bandages being wrapped over his palms. 

Jim laughed hollowly.

”Man, I almost didn’t mention, like.... god, right before you got there, _Claire_ of all people comes up to me, asks me if I’m okay.... I think she only heard a little of what happened, probably knew I was... well..” He laughed. “I dunno. I froze up, I was- it was bad at that point, Tobes, it sucked, everything was all loud and like... spinning, right, and there were way too many people, so I told her I was gonna call you and kinda, like, went on my way.” He recounted, opening his eyes now that he felt a little better. 

“I’m done, you can look now. God, Jimmy, that’s.” Toby laughed. “Real smooth, buddy. At least you didn’t pass out, she would’ve flipped. Actually sounds like you did pretty well even though you were so drunk you probably couldn’t see straight.”

”’M not _that_ drunk, Tobes,” Jim protested, leaning a little closer to him and rolling his eyes. 

“Yeah, yeah. Okay, I’m gonna grab you some water, and then you can get to bed,” He said, and Jim nodded. Water would be fantastic, he thought. And so would sleep. 

“Thanks for coming to get me,” Jim gave him the most of a smile he could muster, which was more of a grimace than anything. Toby handed him the glass of water. Jim tried to take a sip, nearly spilled it, and then tried again. He sighed at the taste of it. God, that was so much better than whatever garbage he’d been drinking before. 

“Of course, buddy. That’s what friends are for,” Something about the phrase spurred the ache in Jim’s chest again, and then he realized he’d just been binding for too long. Great. The tight, oppressive grip of the fabric suddenly had him feeling bad again, like the walls were closing in on him, and he frowned, resting his head on the counter. “Jim?” Toby’s voice was gentle and quiet, but not quite quiet enough. 

“I’m not-“ the feeling of the fabric against his skin was too much, and it reminded him sharply of the exchange from earlier. “Not enough of a dude to not be drunk,” He said flatly. 

“Jimbo. I think with the amount you’ve had, anybody would be drunk. That useless incel doesn’t know what he’s talking about, ok?” Toby’s warm hand found his back and he rubbed small, gentle circles with one palm. Jim sat in silence for a while, realizing that he was crying again and not pointing it out. He didn’t need to. Toby didn’t point it out either, instead just continuing his comforting in silence. After a while, Jim sat up, then stumbled out of his chair. “I think you need to get some sleep. You’re still going to feel like ass in the morning, but it’ll help,” Toby suggested, and Jim nodded. “Are you good for me to leave, or do you want me to spend the night? I don’t think your mom would mind.”

Jim didn’t answer, trying to mull the question over. He thought he wanted Toby to stay, but for some reason he couldn’t say it. It felt like too much of a favor. “I’m just gonna stick around unless you tell me to leave, ok?” Jim nodded, and headed to his bedroom. Planning ahead, he’d already set up the extra mattress beside his own bed for Toby in case he ended up taking him home. _Thank you, sober me,_ Jim thought. Jim set the water on his bedside table for his sober self as a thank-you. He sighed, and Toby watched with an expression of... concern, maybe? Jim just hoped it wasn’t pity. 

“I’m gonna change, I’ll be right back,” Jim decided. By that, he really meant he was going to grab a random sweatshirt, get his binder off, and maybe, if he was feeling like it, wash his face. Toby nodded.

”Yell if you fall or puke or something,” He joked, and Jim laughed, grabbing a random sweatshirt from where he’d set it at the foot of his bed (thanking sober Jim, once again) and heading to the bathroom. Surprisingly, he made it there without incident, and he leaned on the sink, looking in the mirror and sighing. He needed to shave. He was tired. He looked like absolute garbage. One thing that was good was that looking like a dumpster fire made him pass better. Maybe being drunk made him more of a man, whatever that meant.

He managed to get out of the button-up and throw it over the sink- now, he tugged at the edges of his binder, sighing as he saw the lines on his sides where it had dug into his skin. Fuck. Jim pulled, and pulled, and then pulled more, and finally it slid off, landing with a sad thwack on the floor. He picked it up and set it beside his shirt, putting on the sweatshirt and sighing. He exited the bathroom, walking back to his bedroom and sitting down on the edge of the bed.

”Congrats on not dying,” Toby joked. Jim laughed, but not for the right reasons.

”You say to the Trollhunter,” He mumbled, and Toby snickered. “God, I’m- I’m really tired, man..” He mumbled, curling up on his bed and feeling precisely like the garbage snowman that Toby had described earlier. “Can you turn the lights off?”

”Sure thing, buddy.” Toby flicked the light switch and the room went dark. Instead of fear, Jim just felt reassurance, and he clutched the amulet of the Trollhunter to his chest. It pulsed under his fingers, the gentle warmth of it reassuring. 

“Night, Tobes..” Jim managed. He felt the blankets get tucked over him- a sweet gesture, he thought. 

“Night, Jim.”

With that, Jim started to drift off, knowing he would ultimately regret his decisions from that night, but not having the energy in him to care.

 

-


End file.
